The Embittered Monologue
by Tuppence
Summary: E/O Challenges. Full title: The Embittered Monologue of Dean Winchester. Word of the week: Balcony Dean was hunting 3 ghosts and a poltergeist. Shame about his sprained ankle and lack of weapons... And then he finds a creepy, crying ghost...with issues...about hairbands... What's a male hunter to do, when he's surrounded by female ghosts on all sides!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer****:** I thought I owned them. Then I woke up. Such a shame, really.

**Author's Note****:** Totally and completely inspired by BarbarGer's '_Prey_'. This will be an attempted multi-chaptered drabble story, with a chapter added each week. Hope you guys like it.

**Warnings/Spoilers****:** Well, it's Dean hunting by himself, so I like to think of this as pre-Series. But it could also be one of those times when Sam wondered off by himself in the series, or maybe even post-Series 6, if you like.

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The Embittered Monologue Of Dean Winchester

Sprained and Scary...

There were few things Dean genuinely hated but this was definitely one of them, he thought, gripping a branch and pulling himself up.

He _hated_ hunting on his own, he thought, his pained gasps erupting into a cloud of condensing air. And he absolutely _hated_ hunting on his own _on Halloween_.

He heard it prowling around. Just his luck to find a haunting that ended up being three ghosts and a poltergeist, on Halloween, _when he's hunting by himself_, he thinks bitterly.

The miserable cherry on top had been him falling down the slope; the fog had made it impossible for him to have spotted the branch lying on the ground and the rain had made it slippery as hell.

He hobbled against the tree, trying to catch his breath and come up with a plan. If the throbbing pain in his foot was reliable, he had most probably sprained his stupid ankle.

That's when he felt it. The scary frozen air of death around him.

_Fuck! _He wasn't really scared of dying. It was more that he was scared nobody would care, he thinks as he cranes his neck and looks into transparent eyes. And maybe that was justified...

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_To be continued..._


	2. Emergency

**Disclaimer: **Don't own them, no matter how much I wish I did.

**Author's Note:** Better late than never...I had this written before Sunday but I've been so busy, this is pretty much the first decent chance I've had to post it. **100 words** on the dot. I'm having far too much fun playing around with Dean in this one.

**Spoilers/Warnings:** Bad language. Lonely Dean. Creepy ghost. That's about it, I think.

Emergency

He backed away from the apparition slowly, one hand holding a tiny canister of salt protectively and the other fiddling in his pocket.

_Come on, come on, come on..._

The apparition was a little girl, blonde hair, pigtails, creepy as fuck. Evil spirits of little kids bugged him the most.

At least he'd gotten one of them.

_Three to go..._

And then he heard the familiar sounds...

_Fuck! Emergency calls only! When the fuck would they realise that THESE were emergencies and no cop would be of any help. Not like a Bobby Singer would be... _

He was so screwed!


	3. Sweatshirt

**Disclaimer:** No ownage of these boys over here.

**Author's Note:** So here's the third part... I'm going to try and give some backstory in the next chapter, depending on what the WoW is. **100 words** on the dot, I think.

**Warnings/Spoilers:** Erm...none, I think. Although there are hints at something not so very good, which I'll try to elaborate on next chapter, if the WoW is compliant. Enjoy.

Sweatshirt

The cold swept through his clothes as he backed away slowly. However, contrary to expectations, he wasn't flung through the air.

He was tempted to use the salt, vaporise the bitch so that he'd have time to come up something but she was crying pitifully. Creepy as it was, he didn't have the heart to do that to her.

She started talking, words too quiet, too swift to be understood. When she calmed down, he understood them, felt sick. And a cold, nothing to do with the supernatural, crept through his sweatshirt, through his skin, chilling his bones far more completely.

_To be continued..._


	4. Flat

**Disclaimer****:** I don't own Supernatural. Or Gossip Girl...or anything that might suspiciously hint at Gossip Girl.

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I was going to go down the 'abused child' route but I thought that was a bit of a cliché. Been there, seen that kind of thing. And I was trying to think of something original, and as I was doing this, I may have watched 4 seasons of Gossip Girl. In a row. And I blame a massive overdose of Gossip Girl for the slightly more comical twist that this story has taken. I should probably point out that this character is supposed to be a mix of Blair and Serena - with Serena's blonde colouring and Blair's meticulously tidy hair. Enjoy, especially if you get the references to Gossip Girl.

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Flat

Dean backed away, his shotgun forgotten. The ghost – no older than fourteen – looked pitiful, tears rolling down her face. Although her blonde hair was meticulous, her gestures were wild as she moved closer to Dean.

The words swam around as he felt nauseated and furious. _Hair bands? _Three girls died because of _hair bands_? It wasn't even a jewel encrusted hair band; was it really worth dying over? Stupidity knew no bounds, he thought.

As he cleared his throat to speak, a shrill voice beside him made him jump, tripping over his own feet and falling flat on his face.


	5. Card

**Disclaimer****:** I don't own Supernatural.

**Author's Note****:** Sorry for such a leave of absence guys. Real life got in the way in a really horrible way! Not to mention I had three exams last year, pretty much every 3-4 months. Anyway, I hope you guys like this. The action's going to start kicking off in the next couple of chapters; so will the humour. For those of you who watch Gossip Girl, you might get the few winks I've been sending your way. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. **100 words** on the dot, word of the week was **card**. (I'm more than a year behind times but I'm determined to catch up!)

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The Embittered Monologue

Card

Dean swore he could actually see stars spinning around his head. (He had an idea what Sasquatch would say about that - something pompous with unnecessarily long words.)

The two ghost girls were going at it, and Dean was thankful for their distraction. He wasn't in any position to defend himself, let alone take two ghosts down, even if they were little girls. (He could almost hear Sam mocking him now.)

"_You sent him the valentine's day card, signing my name,"_ the new ghost girl was shrieking.

Dean wondered if his headache was from the fall or adolescent ghost girls!


	6. Here

**Disclaimer****:** I don't own Supernatural or the piles of Gossip Girl references I'm making.

**Author's Note****:** Hope you guys enjoy this installment. I promise way more action and ass-kicking next installment!

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The Embittered Monologue

Here

Dean got up slowly. The ghost girls seemed more interested in verbally ripping each other apart but without any salt or his shotgun, he didn't want to risk getting their attention.

He moved cautiously around them, looking on the floor for the salt or shotgun but glancing at them intermittently. He wasn't going to get unawares.

_Yes._ His hands, roaming the ground, felt the tip of the salt canister and he brought it closer to himself.

"Here you go."

Dean felt the hair on every part of his body rise as he saw the poltergeist he hadn't come across yet.

_To be continued..._


	7. Bite

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Supernatural.

**Author's Note****:** Poor Dean's plight continues, as he's surrounded by a female poltergeist and two female ghosts. Poor, poor Dean! Word of the week was **bite **and this is **100 words** on the dot. Hope you guys enjoy it. Sorry about the absence - sadly finals beckoned!

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The Embittered Monologue

Bite

"Back _off_, BITCH!"

Dean found himself surrounded by the poltergeist and the two ghost girls, as they suddenly noticed its existence, focusing their pointed, evil-little-girl glares on the poltergeist and Dean's headache worsened ten-fold.

"Or what?" The poltergeist taunted, with undercurrents of emotions Dean couldn't care less about.

"We'll get rid of you," the blonde ghost smirked.

"We've the means and method now," the brunette's voice held a cutting edge.

Dean's eyes widened, his throat dry as he found the ghost girl nodding in his direction, the spotlight on him. His fingers tightened their grip on his canister of salt.


	8. Balcony

**Disclamer****:** I don't own Supernatural. There would be a lot more bare chests, if I did!

**Author's Note****:** Sorry for taking a long hiatus! A mixture of an elective in LA, finals and family problems kind of meant that I stayed away. But now that things are (sort of) settling down, aside from starting (at least I'm not getting further into debt), I should be able to try and do this on a weekly basis. Anyway, word of the week is **balcony**, this is **100 words** on the dot, and Dean will finally get a little more insight to the little ghost girls (and have his heartstrings strung a bit) next week. This is what I've got for you this week!

The Embittered Monologue

Balcony

He gives props to the blonde ghost – she's a fast thinker. Before the poltergeist can come at him (he's braced himself in preparation), she's in front of him, potentially actually protecting him.

It's clear that the ghosts _despise_ the poltergeists and it's got something to do with a blonde dude. (He's a little miffed that he isn't on their handsome-radar at all!)

It's a bad rendition of Romeo and Juliet, complete with a balcony scene that takes place in school but while the poltergeist is distracted, he follows the beckoning signs of the brunette. Not like he has much choice!


End file.
